Knicker Twisting And Swellage Of The Heart
by Coconut Girl
Summary: This is a fluffy, angsty oneshot for Stone-Of-Purity. Ron screwed up. That's all I'll say.


**A/N: Hello all! Well this little oneshot is for Stone of Purity. It's a bit of fluff that I knocked off quickly (2 hours), so please excuse the spelling and grammar errors. I'm not married to the end, so any constructive criticism or suggestions are welcome.**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Knicker Twisting and Swellage of the Heart_

How could he have been so stupid? It wasn't the first time Ron Weasley had asked himself that question, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last.

He really had no one else to blame for the sorry state of his love life but himself. He was the one who, after a whopping three months together, broke it off with the brightest witch of his age. Why? Because they were still so young? Because she was getting too serious too fast? Because they both should try and see what else was out there? He couldn't quite remember the exact excuse he gave her, but knew it sounded extremely lame even to his ears. The truth was he was terrified. Who found the love of their life at eleven?

It took a while for her to forgive him, but eventually she did and even accepted him back into her circle of friends. As dense as he was, it had taken him even longer than that to realize what a colossal mistake he'd made. Two years, three girlfriends, and eight one night stands to be exact. It wasn't actually any of those flings that had been his wake up call though. No, it had taken the nasty slap in the face of Hermione having her first serious boyfriend for Ron to see what he'd lost.

Ernie 'effing' MacMillan. Ron hated the arsehole for no other reason than Hermione's feelings for him seemed genuine. It was painful to watch her with the berk. The way she hung off him. The way she smiled at him. Those smiles used to be exclusively for Ron himself. The way her eyes danced lovingly over MacMillan's features whenever he was telling a story. The looks made Ron feel queasy and lightheaded. Thankfully the relationship hadn't lasted too long in the grand scheme of things. After seven months, she'd broken it off unexpectedly. Ron didn't even ask why. He felt absolutely triumphant. Unfortunately, his victory was short lived as her reasons became apparent when she started serial dating. She wanted to sow her wild oats apparently.

That brought him to the present. He sat there on the couch in the flat he shared with her and Harry and waited. He was such a glutton for punishment. For the past five months, this was their Friday night ritual. She'd turn up, sometimes alone… sometimes with the tosser in tow. He'd smile… kind of… and try to be friendly… kind of… while she filled him in on all the gory details or flirted mercilessly with her wanker of the week. The hardest times were when she'd only stop in to get her overnight things. Those nights, Ron felt broken.

Ron stared at his empty dinner plate on the coffee table and stewed in the visions his imagination had schemed up of the wonderful time she was having with this other man. How could she be having such fun with someone else?

'_Because you're a stupid, insensitive prat, that's how,'_ he answered himself.

What was the name of this latest git? Brian? Brent? What name had she tossed over her shoulder before flitting out the door in that indecent scrap of silk she called a dress?

Before he could answer himself, Harry ambled through the living room on his way to the kitchen, interrupting his wallowing.

"Hey," Harry offered in passing.

Scowling darkly, Ron could only manage a grunt. Knowing his friend all to well, Harry stopped and took in his friend's disgruntled state.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Nothing," Ron grumbled as he leaned forward, grabbed his plate, and shoved himself off the couch.

Unconvinced, Harry followed him into the kitchen. "Ron, come on. You look like someone ate your last chocolate frog. What's wrong? Wait! Did George actually find your stash at work?"

"No," Ron bit out sharply, tossing his dish none too gently into the sink.

"Then what's the…" Harry's voice petered out, and Ron turned to look at him.

Harry was staring at him, eyes narrowed. "Today's Friday, isn't it?" he asked Ron warily.

"Yeah," Ron all but snarled back.

Harry watched him for a few more seconds before rolling his eyes and making for the kitchen door. "You two are absolutely ridiculous."

"What was that? What did you say?" Ron tripped along after him, incensed.

"Where's Hermione tonight?" Harry asked, although it came out more as a statement than a question.

Catching his meaning, Ron hunched slightly and turned to head toward his recently vacated spot on the couch. "I don't know. Out, I guess."

"No, Ron. You know exactly where she is." When Ron didn't answer him, Harry threw his arms up and huffed out all his air in a frustrated sigh. "Why can't you two get on with it already? You've known each other long enough."

"Mind your own business, Harry," Ron spat angrily.

"Oh please, Ron. I live here. Remember? How am I supposed to ignore you stalking around like the jealous git you are, and her… her dating everything that moves just to make you…"

"Piss off, Harry. You don't know what you're talking about."

Just as Harry was about to lay into Ron, the definitive clicking of the front door being unlocked echoed through the flat. Both men turned their attention to the door as it eased open and Hermione's signature laugh floated into the room from the hallway.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" she invited coyly.

"Well, maybe just for a moment. But I really do need to get back," a man's voice responded warmly.

Ron burrowed deeper into the couch, trying to disappear, and fixed his eyes on the darkened television in the corner. Harry, on the other hand, watched Hermione's entrance with keen interest. She stumbled into the room a giggly awkward mess followed by a tired, tense looking man. The moment Hermione spotted Harry, all pretense of giddiness fell from her face and body.

For his part, Harry only glared at the newly arrived couple. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Harry, what are you doing here? I thought you were staying at Ginny's tonight," Hermione squeaked, the alarm in her voice betraying her.

"No Hermione," he gritted out, "she had a rather vicious practice today and decided she needed an early night. And after this display, I think I need to go lay down. Night all!"

With that, Harry turned on heels and started off down the hall toward his room. Just before he disappeared completely though, he lobbed over his shoulder, "Nice to see you again, Brad. Give Marcetta and the baby my best."

"Thanks, Harry. I will," Brad called back happily. "Well Hermione, you're home and safe now. I'll be off. See you Monday."

Before Hermione could even protest one way or the other, the man was gone. Ron watched her covertly as she stared at the space her "date" had just occupied seemingly caught up in some kind of internal dialogue. Without warning, she turned quickly and pinned Ron with a piercing gaze. Then just as abruptly, she marched off toward the kitchen presumably for her nightly cup of tea.

Ron was utterly confused. What had just happened? Was that her date? The bloke didn't act altogether like a man out with a beautiful witch for the evening. If Ron heard him _and_ Harry correctly, there was a wife and baby somewhere in the mix. He didn't want to make any assumptions… Wizards were known to have affairs and whatnot… but that didn't seem to be the case here. And Hermione wasn't the sort to be the other woman.

After a bout of confusion, Ron hauled himself up and ambled his way into the kitchen. As he entered, his eyes fell onto Hermione's back as she was making herself a cup of tea and some toast. Merlin but she was a gorgeous sight from behind Ron mused silently. He shook his head a little to get himself back on track and leaned himself against the doorframe.

"So, how was your evening?" Ron ventured cautiously.

"Lovely," the beautiful witch spouted flatly.

"That good, yeah?"

Hermione reeled around and took a few steps to the table. "Ron, what do you want?"

"You don't have to get snitty. I was just asking how your night was."

"It was fine, thank you," she answered him curtly.

Ron shifted awkwardly where he stood. This wasn't going well. She was obviously in one of her moods. Building up the nerve to ask the question he desperately wanted the answer to, he began to fidget with his hands.

At the last moment, he decided upon a round about method instead. "So, Brad seems nice."

"He is."

"Was he your date?"

Hermione stiffened and her nostrils flared a little at the inquiry. Had it been any other person, this reaction would have gone unnoticed. But it was Ron, and he had her memorized.

"No," she finally rejoined. "He's a friend from work. My date… my date didn't show."

"Are you kidding? The tosser must be mad."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione vaulted out of her chair and moved to the sink to clear her dish.

"Well, I… I mean you… Well, look at you. What wizard in his right mind would pass up a date with you?"

She looked down at herself and then quickly turned to face the sink. "Good question, Ron," she muttered.

Ron felt the hidden meaning of her response implicitly. Was she actually saying what he thought she was saying? No, she couldn't be. What they had together had been buried and put to rest years ago thanks to him.

"So the idiot didn't show. Did you have a good time anyway?"

"Listen Ron, I'm not up for our usual discourse tonight. Do you mind if we drop it?"

In a haze of embarrassment and uncertainty, Ron pushed off from the doorframe and prepared to make his exit, tripping over his words in his haste to escape. "No, no at all. No, that's fine. I'll just… Um, well… goodnight then."

"Don't be like that, Ron."

"Like what? You just said…"

"I said I didn't feel like rehashing my evening. You don't need to rush off. How was your night?"

Ron blinked a bit at her dizzying turn around. Didn't she just say…?

"It was fine. Kind of quiet. Watched a Muggle movie."

"That's nice," Hermione managed distractedly.

"It was all right, I guess."

"When was the last time you went out, Ron?"

"What?"

"Like on a date?" she clarified.

"What… I… I don't know. It's been a while."

"Why? Why has it been a while? You used to go out all the time. I'm worried about you, Ron. Why are you turning into a couch potato?"

"A what?"

"It's a Muggle term. It means you spend too much time lounging on… Never mind."

"I think I get what you mean. I just… I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Ron, you're only twenty two."

"I'm pretty tired after being at the store all week. I just want to relax by the time Friday rolls around, all right?"

"Right. Of course, that's it," she muttered to herself. Suddenly, something occurred to her and she eyed him shrewdly. "You know, there's this girl at work who would be perfect for you."

"What? Oh no, Hermione. No… I… Just, no," he sputtered, finally understanding where she was headed with this interrogation.

"Ron, it's been ages since you've been out. How long has it been exactly?"

"A… a year, maybe," he mumbled.

"Twelve months is a long time to go without, Ron."

He flushed red at the suggestive comment and tried not to make eye contact with her from his place at the door.

"Yeah, it is."

"So, this would be perfect. You could…"

"No, Hermione. I'm not interested. I don't have the time to be getting to know someone new."

"Ron, don't be ridiculous. You have all the time in the world," she pressed.

"Hermione, drop it. I don't want to date your friend, all right?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest as if to silently communicate that the subject was now closed. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to get the message. Or rather, chose to ignore it.

"Oh, tosh. If you don't want to meet someone new, then how about someone from school? Luna's free. Or maybe Parvati… No, strike that. She was pretty adamantly against ever going near you again after what happened at the Yule Ball. You know, I think Lavender is still interested. You could always…"

"No, Hermione. What part of 'I'm not interested' do you not understand?"

"But you don't want to alone for the rest of your life, Ron. Do you?"

"Of course, I don't. I didn't say that. Stop putting words in my mouth." She was backing him into the corner and he was beginning to feel trapped.

"Then how are you supposed to get on with your life if you're not even willing to try?"

"I don't want any of them," he snapped back

"Then who do you want?"

"You!" he shouted, thoroughly put out by her persistence.

And there it was. A year of trying to conceal it from her and keeping his feelings to himself went straight out the window. A painful, heavy silence settled over the room torturing the two occupants.

"Well, you can't have me," Hermione finally managed in a tight voice.

"I know," Ron mumbled in defeat.

"You gave up that chance," she pressed on.

"I said I know."

"I've moved on."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," he bit out sharply, finding his old anger.

"You can't just out and say you want me."

"I know." After a brief moment, Ron reconsidered his answer. "Actually, why can't I?"

"What?" Hermione's eyes popped open at the unexpected come back.

"Why can't I? I can do anything I want… Say anything I want, and if you don't like it… well, that's tough titties."

"I beg your pardon," she sputtered at his interesting use of language.

"You wanted to know why I haven't been seeing anyone. Well, there you have it. You don't like the reason then you can just go suck rotten eggs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

Ron reeled around in righteous indignation and stormed from the kitchen. He'd revealed everything now, so he had nothing left to lose.

"No, you're not. You are going to stay here and finish what you started."

'_What is she playing at?'_ thought Ron. _'She doesn't want me. She's made that abundantly clear. Why can't she just leave me alone to lick my wounds in private?'_

"Finish what I started? How can I possibly do that? You just said I don't have a chance."

"We need to discuss this, Ron," Hermione spouted like a some kind of demented school marm.

"There's nothing to discuss. You said you don't want me…"

"I never said that."

"Oh yes, you did. You said…" Ron belted out, digging his heels in for the fight.

"I know what I said and I stick by it. You can't just have me. You _have_ lost your chance. I _have_ moved on."

"Then this conversation is over," he shouted at her before heading toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"Damn you, Ronald!" she screeched, stopping him in his attempted flight.

"What did I do now? I'm trying to make this easy for you. You nixed anything happening between us, what else am I supposed to do?"

"You're just going to roll over and give up? You're not even going to fight for me? You were the one who walked away first, Ronald. You're the one who has something to make up for. You're the one who needs to try and get me back. I am not just going to give over because you now feel like being with me." Hermione had started out clam enough, but she had quickly dissolved into a ranting mess by the end of her tirade.

"Damn it, Hermione! I've wanted to be with you for over a year now. You said it yourself. I haven't been with anyone in ages. Why do you think that is?"

"If you think for one second that you staying single will make up for all the times I had to watch you with some floozy, you are sorely mistaken," she ground out, ignoring the tears that were running down her cheeks in a steady stream.

"I don't think anything of the kind. I know I was an idiot. I just haven't been with anyone because there's no one else I'd rather be with. Why settle? I'd rather be alone."

She stared at him for a long, hard second before responding. "That's not fair," she forced out through a shaking voice. "You… saying that. You ruined my relationship with Ernie, you know that."

"How the hell did I do that?"

"I was happy with him, you know. He was good to me. Then I started noticing that you were never with anyone anymore and that ate at me. I couldn't ignore it. How was I supposed to stay with him, when the man I really wanted… the man I had been in love with forever was free… unspoken for. And it just got worse the more I thought on it. You know what I'm like – a dog with a bloody bone. It got to the point where I couldn't even look poor Ernie in the eye."

"Hermione," Ron tried to allay her.

"Don't you 'Hermione' me! Don't you dare try to calm me down! It's my right to be pissed off at you."

"If you felt that way, then why the revolving door of wankers?"

"Why do you think, you thick prat?"

"Hold on there! No need to get vicious."

"I know how jealous you get," she continued on, disregarding his offense. "Well, how jealous you used to get. I had to make sure you still felt that way. The way you did. But you didn't do anything… You didn't give a flying fig."

"Now that's where you're wrong." He reached to place his hands on her forearms but she pulled away.

"Then why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you rant and rave like you normally do?"

"You said it before. Who was I to interfere in your love life? It wasn't my place anymore. I'd lost my chance."

Hermione collapsed onto the couch, finally giving way to the wracking sobs that had been threatening her, and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh 'Mione, please don't cry. Please! I hate it when you cry," he pleaded with her as he dropped to his knees in front of her.

He gently pulled her hands down and cupped her delicate face in his large palms. His eyes roamed her features in a hungry journey to memorize her, and he brushed the wetness on her cheeks away with his thumbs.

"I realize this may be a little late in coming and not entirely welcome, but I am sorry. You've no idea how much. I'm not the best with words as you know…" At that, Hermione laughed a little through her tears. Ron took it as his cue to push on. "But you're the most important person in the world to me and it kills me that I'm the one who hurt you so much. And… and… I don't care if it's too late, and I've lost my chance, and… and you've moved on… but I love you… and you'll just have to de – "

Before Ron could finish his proclamation, Hermione leaned forward and claimed his lips for her own, effectively silencing him.

After the simple but sweet kiss, Hermione pulled away slightly and pressed her forehead to Ron's, both keeping their eyes lightly closed.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" he queried, his breath chasing away from him.

"Oh I'll need a lot more convincing than that," she purred, though her recent upset was still clearly in her voice.

He quirked a lopsided grin, and breathed out his relief. "I think I can manage that."


End file.
